


Modern Prince Charming

by literaryoblivion



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Death Threats, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hate to Love, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Modern Royalty, Prince Derek, Prince Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-16 12:27:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2269671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literaryoblivion/pseuds/literaryoblivion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prince Derek cannot stand Prince Stiles Stilinski. He might look cute with that messy, just-had-sex hair look he goes for, with the tight dress slacks and white button-up shirt that hugs his chest, but he is a terrible prince. He just has everyone fooled with that turned up nose and big brown eyes. </p><p>Derek just wishes he could prove that, have everyone see that instead of fawning over him.</p><p>Luckily, he gets his chance when Prince Stiles drops in for a visit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Modern Prince Charming

**Author's Note:**

  * For [siny](https://archiveofourown.org/users/siny/gifts).



> This originally came about because of [these pictures](http://literaryoblivion.tumblr.com/post/92440205068) and I started the fic for [Siny's](http://sinyhale.tumblr.com/) birthday. But then I got distracted by other things and didn't finish it in time for her. BUT I did finish it in time for the [SterekFest](http://derekandstiles.com/post/96836710265/with-just-one-more-episode-of-teen-wolf-left). So, I say it counts for both. :)
> 
> Happy belated birthday, Siny, and happy SterekFest day! :)

“Ugh…. You would. Why are you… uuugggghhh. I hate you… how dare you…. Oh of course…. Pfft.”

“Uh… Derek? Is there a reason you’re groaning and whining at the TV again?” Isaac, Derek’s assistant, says when he comes in, only to look up and see what is on said TV. He sighs. “Oh. That’s why.”

Derek ignores him. “He doesn’t even have to do anything. He just smiles and everyone just flocks to him like he’s some… some… adorable gift to mankind.”

Isaac snickers. “Uh huh…. _adorable_.”

“Shut up. Prince Stiles Stilinski can’t even discuss a treaty agreement without getting flustered, and yet everyone flocks to him like he has words of wisdom for them all. I can’t even get my own people to listen to me during an address. I hate him. He’s an idiot.”

“Yup. When was it he got flustered?” Isaac asks, subtly turning off the television so Derek doesn’t decide to throw something at it. They’ve already had to replace this one twice.

“Last month when he decided to just show up at my gate to try to come up with some agreement to allow our two kingdoms to trade. He didn’t even have the common courtesy to send a message to warn us of his arrival.”

“Which you informed him of...”

“I most certainly did. But I took him in anyway, because I’m a gracious, understanding host and prince. And then when we’re trying to discuss things, _at his request_ may I remind you, he acts like he has no idea why he’s there and forgets his train of thought. And I’m trying to make sure that I’m representing my kingdom well and double checking the paperwork, and telling him so, and he just tunes me out. Isaac, he just stared at me with his eyes glazed over like he was in his own little world. I doubt he heard a word I said.”

“Most likely,” Isaac answers with no emotion. He’s heard Derek rant about this incident several times already. He is both looking forward to and dreading how much Derek will rant to him after he gives him the news he came in to tell him.

“He might look cute with that messy, just-had-sex hair look he goes for, with the tight dress slacks and white button-up shirt that hugs his chest, but he is a terrible prince. He just has everyone fooled with that turned up nose and big brown eyes. I wish I could prove that to everyone else.”

“Well, you will soon have your chance.”

Derek quirks an eyebrow, turning in his seat on the couch to look at Isaac. “What?”

“I said you will soon have your chance. We just received word that he will be arriving here tomorrow. He made sure to inform you of it this time; his assistant was quite adamant that we tell you immediately.” Isaac tries his best not to smirk.

“Tomorrow? Tomorrow!? That asshole! That’s still not enough notice.”

Isaac shrugs because really he doesn’t care. “At least he’s not showing up on your doorstep again with no notice at all.”

Derek gives him a bitchface and Isaac grins. He lives for pissing Derek off, really. It’s the only joy he gets from his position as his assistant.

“Did his assistant say why he was coming?” Derek grits out through his teeth.

“No. But the news said something about him vacationing and looking for potential partners, which you would have heard had you not been too busy yelling at the television.”

“Partners for what?” Derek gets up, loosens his tie because he doesn’t have any other appointments for the rest of the evening.

“Don’t know. Dinner will be ready in fifteen. Be there in ten so I don’t have to force the chef to cook something else because you came a half hour after it was served and it’s gone cold.”

“Fine.”

Isaac moves towards the doors of the study, opening one to step through to leave. “Oh, and, your majesty?”

“Uh oh. What’s the bad news? You only ever call me your majesty when you have bad news.”

Isaac grins. “Prince Stiles is staying for a week.”

Before Derek can even protest, Isaac is already shutting the door behind him.

“A week?!” he yells out in the empty room, knowing full well Isaac and probably half his staff can hear him.

He has to deal with Stiles _under his roof_ for a _week_. This will either be the best or worst week of his life.

~

Derek wakes up unusually early, to make sure everything is in order for Prince Stiles’s arrival. He knows that he usually travels with a small entourage, and he’s had his staff ready the guest quarters for them. He’s not sure when exactly Stiles will be arriving, but on the news that morning, they mention that the Prince’s caravan was seen a few hours north of his kingdom. Stiles might be there just in time for brunch.

He’s researched all he can on what kind of business venture Stiles might be going into that he would be seeking out partners for, but he’s found nothing. It must be a rather secretive endeavor, if Stiles has been able to keep it so hush hush. Usually Stiles can’t keep his mouth shut about anything. In fact, it’s one of his qualities that everyone seems to find endearing (rather than annoying and dangerous as Derek sees it). “It must mean he’s open and honest,” and “so genuine” the press say, and Derek wants to gag every time he hears it. It just means Stiles can’t be trusted.

When the bell rings as he’s about to sit down to eat a proper breakfast, he groans and gets up from the table in case it’s Prince Stiles. Isaac is already at the door holding it ajar while he talks to someone on the other side. Derek waits for him to shut it before questioning him.

“Well?” Derek asks.

“Looks like we’ll have to set another place for breakfast. They’re only five minutes out.”

Derek nods. “Very well. Tell Chef Reyes to prepare another batch of crepes for his staff as well.”

“Yes, your majesty,” Isaac says, bowing slightly before leaving Derek in the hallway to fulfill his duties.

Derek stands, not knowing what to do. He can’t possibly go back to eat, as that would be rude not to wait for Stiles, but waiting in the entry hall for Stiles to arrive seems incredibly silly. Luckily he doesn’t have to stand awkwardly for too much longer because the bell rings again.

Isaac is nowhere to be found, still talking to Chef Reyes, presumably, and even though he knows he _shouldn’t_ be answering his own door because what kind of statement would that make, he does it anyway. On the other side is Prince Stiles, his assistant Scott a step behind him, holding a suitcase.

“Oh, I must be really special if you opened the door for me and not someone else,” Stiles says with a grin and a wink.

Derek’s lips thin in a lie. “No, I just happened to be the closest.”

“It’s great to see you too, Derek,” Stiles says, bowing slightly at the waist in front of him, but his eyes still locked with Derek’s.

“Welcome, Prince Stiles,” Derek says, returning the bow. He opens the door wider. “Please, come in.”

Stiles’s smile widens, and he steps past Derek into the hallway. Scott follows in behind him before Derek closes the door. Right then is when Isaac breezes back through the doors on the right, and he instructs Scott to follow him to where they will be staying.

“I love what you’ve done with the place,” Stiles says turning slowly in a circle as he stares up at the ceiling and the open rooms nearby.

“I haven’t…” Derek starts, confused.

“I know. I was kidding. Oh man, what smells good? I am so hungry! Did you make me something?” Stiles wiggles his eyebrows stepping up closer to Derek.

This Stiles is nothing like the Stiles he encountered last month. That Stiles had been flustered and flailing everywhere, but this one is confident and cheeky, like Derek doesn’t intimidate him one bit. Derek hates this one.

Mainly because it’s making _him_ feel flustered instead.

“I was just about to sit down to breakfast. Would you care to join me?”

“Always so proper,” Stiles mutters, although Derek hears it. “I would. Lead the way, Prince Derek.” Stiles bows low with his hand out in front of him. Derek rolls his eyes at the gesture and jerks his head for Stiles to follow him to the dining hall.

The table has already been set for two, and much to his dismay, they have been placed right next to each other. He doesn’t comment on it out loud, though, but he does notice Stiles swallow when he sees it.

There’s someone there waiting to pull out their chairs for them, which must have been at Isaac’s request. Usually Derek does most everything himself, not seeing the point in having someone wait on him hand and foot when he is more than capable. But with Stiles there, he has to keep up a certain persona (which is why him answering his own door is probably going to bite him in the butt later).

Both he and Stiles thank the servant who pulls out their chairs and helps with napkins, another person bringing out their breakfasts at the same time. It’s egg whites, bacon, toast, and strawberries, and Derek pays no mind about it since it’s what he normally has for breakfast. Stiles, though, gapes as his plate is set down in front of him.

“Wow, this looks delicious!” Stiles says, picking up his knife and fork from the table.

“Do you not have something similar in your home?” Derek asks, turning his head slightly to face Stiles.

“Uh… no. Well, I mean not that often.” Stiles’s face reddens, like he seems embarrassed about admitting what he has. “I mean, this bacon is out for sure. I can’t have my dad eating something so unhealthy!”

“I’m sure every once in a while wouldn’t hurt the King.”

“Eh, did he talk to you? Cause that sounds like something he’d say.” Stiles narrows his eyes.

Derek smiles, shaking his head. “No. But, he’s your father. I’m sure you know the situation better.” Stiles nods. “So, what do you normally eat then?”

“If I have time, I might have some eggs, but usually it’s just cereal and toast.”

“You’re always that busy?”

Stiles shrugs. “Public appearances, appointments. Everybody wants something… gotta give them what they want, right?”

“You know, you can say no. You don’t have to agree to do all of those interviews or make those appearances.”

Stiles laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “I kind of do, actually.”

“No you don’t, Stiles. You are a prince. You have the right to tell them to shove off.”

Stiles shakes his head, his voice getting a little louder. “Look, Derek, I don’t know what you’ve seen or heard, but… I just… I just do. I have to.”

“Why?”

“Because--”

Isaac enters the dining room just as Stiles is about to answer.

“I’m sorry, your majesties, but Prince Stiles? Your assistant Scott would like to know if you will be needing the rest of your escorts today. It would appear they would like to do some of their own errands while in town.”

“Oh, um, right. Thank you, Isaac. Tell Scott that he can send them off. I won’t be requiring their services today.”

“Yes, your majesty.” Isaac bows. “Sorry for the interruption,” he adds before exiting the room and shutting the doors behind him.

“As you were saying?” Derek urges when Stiles goes back to eating.

“Huh?” he asks around a mouthful of food.

“Why can you not tell them no? You were--”

Stiles waves him off. “It’s not important. These eggs are seasoned perfectly by the way.”

Derek side-eyes Stiles but chooses not to press the issue. If Stiles really wanted him to know, he’d say, and this must be something he’s trying his best to keep under wraps. Perhaps the smiling, bubbly, spastic prince he sees all the time on television isn’t how Stiles really is. It’s not how he was when he met him a month ago, and this time he seems even more guarded than he was then. Perhaps he’s learned a lesson, learned he can’t trust everyone. It’s not a fun lesson to learn, but a necessary one, one Derek learned early in life, and as much as it was painful to go through, he thinks he’s better for it.

“I’ll be sure to tell my chef. I’ve been told you’ll be staying with us a week, in which case, Erica, my chef closes the kitchen at eight p.m. If you or your staff have any dietary needs, give them to Isaac and he’ll let her know.”

“Oh. Yes. Thank you. So, it’s alright if I stay for the week?”

“Of course.”

Stiles gives him a small smile, and Derek finds himself returning it. A silence falls between them after that as they finish their food. Derek’s not sure what he should do once Stiles is finished. He has a few things to go over, he’s sure, and he’s assuming Stiles will be tired and want to take a nap. When a servant comes out to take their empty plates, he turns to Stiles to tell him as much.

“Are you going to show me around now?” Stiles asks when Derek opens his mouth.

“You… you’re not tired?”

“Not really. I slept in the car on the way over here.”

“You want a tour?”

“That’s what I said. I would really like to see your gardens, if that’s alright? I didn’t get to see them last time on account of the rain.”

Derek stands, pushing his chair out before the waiting servant can do it for him (sometimes he forgets). Stiles, however, waits for the servant to do the same for his chair before standing. Derek leads them back out of the kitchen and into the hallway.

“I can take you; let me change into proper shoes,” Derek says. Stiles looks down at the suede leather house slippers Derek’s wearing and grins.

“Of course. Do you want me to wait...” Stiles asks, thumbing behind him at the door.

Derek’s instinct is to tell him yes, but he doesn’t want to be rude and he’s only changing his shoes, so it won’t be long.

“No, you can come with me,” Derek says waving a hand to gesture Stiles to accompany him.

Their footsteps echo in the empty hallway as Derek leads them to his study, where he knows he left a pair of boots. It’s closer than having Stiles follow him all the way to his quarters for his actual walking shoes. Stiles watches as Derek slips off his house shoes for the boots.

“Are those comfortable?” Stiles asks, his nose scrunched up like he’s picturing something unpleasant.

“Enough. We’re not hiking through all of the grounds, are we?”

“No… not today.” Stiles smirks and winks at him. Derek looks up at the ceiling, like he’s praying for strength from some unknown deity.

“Come on.” Derek’s shoes are on and he’s ready to get this over with. Entertaining Stiles for a few hours is exhausting, he doesn’t know how he’s going to do it for the rest of the week.

Once they’re outside, away from the press that seem to be lurking outside his gates and his staff and servants, Stiles finally talks.

“You don’t get very many visitors, do you?”

Derek shrugs. “I mainly deal with foreigners over the phone or online. There’s no point in them traveling here when I have a secure line in which to conduct negotiations.”

“So you don’t travel either?”

“Not really.”

“But, if someone were to invite you to visit, would you take them up on the offer?”

“It depends. Why do you ask?”

Stiles shrugs, stopping their casual stroll to look at a particular flower in the garden. Derek has seen these flowers so many times, they all blend together. He doesn’t even think he remembers the names for them anymore.

“These are pretty,” Stiles says as he bends down to examine them closer, sniffing their scent when he’s close. Derek does not admire the view of Stiles bending over. He doesn’t.

“They are. My mother had had them flown in from… Spain, I believe? Many of the flowers in the garden were chosen by her.” It’s been so long since his parents’ passing that the sadness in his voice when he speaks of them is barely noticeable to anyone. Stiles, though, notices.

“I’m sure she would have been proud you’ve kept up with it.”

Derek hums in acknowledgment. He waits as Stiles stands again, follows him as Stiles goes deeper into the garden, high hedges making them practically invisible to anyone else. Perhaps this is why Stiles wanted to see the gardens, wanted to ensure they had privacy before he told Derek why he was in his presence and not, say his sister Laura’s, the Queen.

“Stiles,” Derek finally asks when Stiles has stopped in the middle of a courtyard, surrounded on all sides by tall bushes. “Why are you really here?”

Stiles turns, and suddenly, the calm, cool, arrogant facade he had worn all morning is gone, and left in its place is one of fear and anxiety. He’s biting his lip and turning his head around, as if checking that there was no one hiding in the bushes. It puts Derek immediately on alert, worried about what Stiles might tell him. He looks scared, staring back at Derek with wide eyes.

“Stiles?” Derek says, voice concerned as he takes a few steps closer to Stiles.

“No one can hear us out here, right?” Stiles asks in a rushed whisper.

“No. Only the gardeners come out here and today is their day off. It’s just us, I promise. No cameras or microphones. Stiles, what’s wrong?”

“Derek, I… I’m in danger and someone wants me dead.”

Derek rears back. “What?!”

“I’m sorry to put this on you and for potentially putting you in danger, too, but I couldn’t think of anywhere else to go while we try to figure out who it is.”

“Stiles, it’s alright, you’re more than welcome here. If you need to stay longer you can.”

Stiles gives him a small quirk of his lips. “Thank you.”

“How did you find out? Do you have any clues?”

“There was an assassination attempt already, but other than that, we don’t know much else.”

Derek rushes forward, his hands on Stiles’s shoulders. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

Stiles lets out a giggle. “I’m alright. I’m alive, aren’t I? It was a sniper shot, but I tripped and they missed me. Luckily it happened inside the castle, so there was no press.”

“So… the thing about the business partners?”

“Was something we fed to the media so it would be an excuse for me to leave. I would have told you sooner, but for safety, I was advised not to.”

“It’s alright, Stiles. This is extenuating circumstances. If you need anything, please tell me. My staff is also at your disposal if you feel they could help in the investigation.”

Stiles smiles gratefully. “Thank you.”

“And… me, too. If you need me, I’m here… too,” Derek adds awkwardly.

The grin that splits Stiles’s face is huge, and suddenly Stiles throws himself at Derek and wraps his arms around him in a huge hug. He buries his face in Derek’s neck, and though Derek is surprised at first, he slowly lets his own arms come around Stiles. It’s really nice actually, warm and comfortable, and Derek thinks briefly that he could get used to it.

“Thank you, Derek,” Stiles mumbles into his neck.

“You’re welcome, Stiles, anytime,” he replies, squeezing Stiles a little tighter and rubbing a hand up and down his back. Stiles isn’t pulling away, and Derek doesn’t mind, if he’s being honest, so they stand there in an embrace while Stiles continues,

“I’ve been on the edge of a panic attack for three days now. It happened a few days ago, and everything has been chaos since then. I’ve had to make all these appearances because I’m safer if there are more people watching according to my security team, and I’m just… so tired.”

Stiles spills the words out of him like he let a dam break and he can’t hold them back any longer.

“I don’t know if it’s someone random or foreign or if it’s someone I know, like what if it’s someone on my staff, and is it just me or is it my dad ,too, and what about him? Who’s going to take care of him because they’ve sent me away? What if something happens to him while I’m gone, what if that was the whole point? To get me and all the security people away and distracted to leave him unprotected, and, and...”

“Shhhhh, shhh, Stiles, it’ll be okay,” Derek says, trying his best to calm him. He knows Stiles is crying, can feel his neck and his shirt getting wet from Stiles’s tears. Stiles’s fists are gripping the shirt on his back, as if to keep Derek from leaving, not that he was planning on going anywhere.

Derek does his best to walk them both to a nearby bench on one side of the courtyard and lowers them both down ‘til they’re seated; although, Stiles is still clinging to him, so it’s more like Stiles ends up more in his lap than on the bench. Derek tries his best to rearrange them so it’s more comfortable, but Stiles doesn’t seem to care or mind while he still cries into Derek’s chest.

He waits until Stiles calms down a little--his breathing returned to normal--to finally say something.

“I promise I won’t let anything happen to you while you’re here, okay?” He pushes Stiles back and tilts his chin up so Stiles is looking straight at him. He brushes the tears away from Stiles’s face with his thumbs. “Okay?” he says again, firm.

Stiles sniffs and nods, his hand coming up to grip Derek’s wrist, which Derek realizes is still near Stiles’s face because he’s still cupping Stiles’s face with his hands.

“Thank you, Derek. I mean it, really. Thank you. I know you don’t particularly like me, so this means a lot that you would do this for me.”

Derek scowls and frowns a little. “Who said I didn’t like you?” He lets his hands fall from Stiles’s face, although they end up on Stiles’s legs, which probably isn’t any better.

“I just… thought… you were so angry with me last time. I thought it was because you found me annoying.”

“I do find you annoying.”

Stiles’s face falls even more. “See, you don’t like me. I’m sorry to burden you--” Stiles goes to move, but Derek’s arms find their way to his waist and holds Stiles so he can’t leave.

“I didn’t say I didn’t like you. I can still find you annoying and like you…”

Stiles looks up through his eyelashes. “Do you? Like me?”

Derek closes his eyes then slowly opens them, refusing to look at Stiles. “That’s the problem,” he mutters, “I like you too much.”

Stiles ducks his head to catch Derek’s eye, and when Derek finally looks at him, Stiles is grinning. “Was that a yes, you like me?”

“Yes, alright,” Derek huffs out, “I like you. There, happy?” He frowns, and if he could, he would probably fold his arms across his chest, but Stiles is in the way so he can’t.

“Very.” Stiles leans in closer, brings a hand up to stroke the stubble along Derek’s jaw with his thumb. “I like you, too, you know.”

Derek’s eyes snap to Stiles’s, searching for the truth in his words. Derek’s lips curl up at the corner. “Really?”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Duh. Isn’t it obvious?”

“Not to me.”

“I couldn’t even pay attention during negotiations because I was so gone on you. I tripped over my own feet because you got me so flustered with your… everything.”

“I thought you were bored and clumsy.”

Stiles laughs and shakes his head. “Not that time, I promise. It was your fault. You’re very distracting.”

“So are you.”

Stiles blushes, and Derek has the urge to kiss him and thinks he shouldn’t resist, but Stiles beats him to it, brushes his lips against Derek’s. It can barely be called a kiss, really, so Derek pulls Stiles in more with a hand on the back of his neck. Stiles relaxes into his arms, smiling against Derek’s lips before kissing him again, harder this time.

They share a few more brief kisses before Stiles pulls away, but not before rubbing his nose against Derek’s.

“I’m glad I get to hide for my life with you,” Stiles says with a sad smile.

Suddenly Derek remembers the reason why Stiles is there staying with him. “Right,” he says, determined. “Let’s figure this out.” Derek stands from the bench, taking Stiles with him, who tries to right himself quickly and stand also.

“Derek, my security team is working on it. I’m not sure we can do anything.”

“I know someone that could help, and I can have my security look into things. I should let my staff know as well so that they can report anything suspicious.”

Stiles smiles and links his fingers with Derek’s. “Okay.”

“I’m not letting anything happen to you,” Derek says, squeezing Stiles’s hand.

“I know.” He gives Derek a peck on the cheek. “You’re my Prince Charming.”

“Please don’t call me that.”

Stiles giggles. “Too late. Come on, I’m sure Scott’s already told Isaac what’s going on, but I’m sure Isaac will want to talk to you before he does anything.”

He pulls Derek out of the courtyard and hedges back out into the open gardens. Derek is a little surprised at how well Stiles knows his staff, expects how Isaac is. He’s already leading Derek around his own grounds, and Derek briefly misses the prince that was clumsy and bored and too intimidated by Derek to do anything but follow him around and make a fool of himself.

But it is a fleeting thought because he likes this Stiles, likes the way his hand feels in his, the way Stiles’s lips had felt against his, the way his body was warm when Derek held it against his. And no one will be taking that feeling away from him, so he needs Stiles to be alive and well. He needs to know how well their bodies fit together, what Stiles looks like in the morning, what sounds he makes when in bed, what books he likes to read, how his face looks in the throes of passion. He plans on spending a long time figuring this out, longer than the week Stiles is spending with him, so he needs to eliminate this threat as soon as possible so they can spend time together without having to be constantly on guard.

Like he said before: this will be the best or worst week, and he hopes with all his heart that it’s more the former than the latter.

~

After getting his staff up to speed, his security team abreast of the situation, and putting Danny, the head of Stiles’s security, in contact with the people he knows, they figure out who was behind the assassination attempt by the third day Stiles is there.

Stiles ends up staying there for the full week, and then another two weeks after that. And then when he leaves, Derek ends up going with him and travels around with Stiles a little on vacation for a few more weeks before going back to Stiles’s kingdom and asking King Stilinski for Stiles’s hand in marriage. He stays there with Stiles for a few more weeks because the King refuses to agree to anything until he gets to know Derek. Plus, he says, he hasn’t seen his son in over a month, so he’d rather wait until he had, to know if Stiles was really in love and that this wasn’t some political move on Derek’s part.

Stiles rolls his eyes, but Derek nods in understanding and agrees to wait.

It takes about five minutes for the king to realize Stiles and Derek are disgustingly in love, but he drags out his decision because he has to get his kicks and giggles somehow.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I was kind of in a hurry to finish for the SterekFest day, so I kind of cut the fic off sooner than I would have liked and summarized the ending, so that I wouldn't leave you hanging. If I had more time, patience, and motivation, I would have told the entire week with Stiles and given more details as to the shooter/investigation and them falling more in love etc. In fact, I still might end up doing that, but until my life gets less crazy, I can't. :( SORRY. I hope this is good enough for now though. :)
> 
> Come say hi on [tumblr](http://literaryoblivion.tumblr.com) or [twitter](http://twitter.com/lit_oblivion).


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